


This Dream Isn't Feeling Sweet

by aintweproudriff



Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, June is great friends with Bea and Henry okay, M/M, Mental Breakdown, all romantic relationships are just mentioned, just a small one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:54:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28146423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aintweproudriff/pseuds/aintweproudriff
Summary: “Hi, Bea,” she said, and realized she hadn’t spoken in hours, causing her voice to be raspy. She cleared her throat.“Hey, June.” Bea’s voice was as clear and high as a bell. “Having a bit of a breakdown over there, huh?”June laughed sourly. “Maybe a little bit.”June's position as FDOTUS interferes with her career, and she worries that she's sacrificing too much. Turns out, princesses give the best advice.
Relationships: June Claremont-Diaz & Beatrice Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, June Claremont-Diaz & Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, mentioned Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, past Alex Claremont-Diaz/Nora Holleran
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	This Dream Isn't Feeling Sweet

**Author's Note:**

> I've been sad and lonely lately, so have a vent fic that turned into something I actually like. Also, it's my first RWRB fic! The characters live in my head rent-free.

June didn’t know why she was trying not to cry. It wasn’t like anyone was in her room with her, Alex working late at the shelter in Brooklyn and Nora busy with coursework. But she swallowed hard around the bitter tightness at the back of her mouth and blinked rapidly, fighting the tears that threatened to fall.  
Minutes passed as she stared at the laptop perched in her crossed legs. On the left side of the split screen was an article she was trying to write about the economy, and how a specific senator’s plan for tax cuts would destroy the working class. On the right side of the split screen was an email from her editor.  
_June,  
I’m glad to have you contributing these ideas, but we’ve already discussed what a poor idea it is for the First Daughter to discuss politics in our publication. We’ll be accused of bias.  
What I would especially love to see from you is some insider knowledge of the White House. Do you have a story about your mother’s second term? How does it feel to talk with your mother after a long day? How was your weekend with your father? Better yet (for sales, anyway), have you been spending time with your brother, Prince Henry, or the rest of the “super six” recently? Personal essays usually aren’t something we’re interested in, but you are the exception!  
Best,  
Jennifer._

Who did she think she was? Signing her emails “best,” like she hadn’t just crushed June’s millionth attempt at getting something of substance into the magazine. Asking for a personal essay, because June is the _exception_ to the rule. Everyone wants to hear what it’s like to live in the White House, to personally know the biggest names in politics and pop culture.  
And heck, she didn’t blame them. She wanted to read her personal essays about the time she met Taylor Swift, too. If she wasn’t her, then she would be eating up the gossip about the Super Six. But she was her, and it was her life that everyone wanted to discuss.  
It was her mom’s fault, a little bit. Alex’s, too. They had been the first to present the idea of the “White House Trio,” a suave group of young political influencers.

* * *

“Please, June,” her mom had begged in January of 2016, right after she had picked Mike Holleran as her VP. “The three of you are going to be under so much scrutiny. I want to paint you in a good light, protect you from the press, and help the three of you stick together.”  
June looked to Alex, sitting on the family couch with his legs flung over the armrest.  
He shrugged, obviously trying to hide his excitement. “I think it’s a good idea. I’d rather do this with you guys than without.”  
She watched him look at Nora with huge, round eyes, and she knew: he was lovestruck.  
Nora nodded, first to Ellen then to Alex. “I’m in. If it helps you win the nomination.”  
“Yeah,” June agreed. “If it helps, I’ll do whatever it takes.”

* * *

She’d been excited, initially; she loved Alex and Nora, and wanted desperately for her mom to win the election. But that was when she was 21 and barely knew what she wanted to drink when she went to a bar for the first time. How could she have predicted that branding herself as part of a group would take away the individual agency she would crave as she moved forward with her career?  
She didn’t blame her mom or Alex, of course. They weren’t the ones reducing her to her position, like Jennifer the editor was. But she’d be lying if she said that she’d never felt bitter towards the two of them, and how they benefited from her involvement with the White House Trio without giving her anything in return. After all, her mom won the biggest popularity contest in the world, and Alex got a new girlfriend, then an ex, then a best friend. Not to mention that Alex became America’s favorite heartthrob. Her? She got to give up going directly into the workforce, instead spitting her time between what she pretended was actually work and the White House. Alex got his dream fulfilled, but she had to put her dreams on hold for this.

* * *

The week after the election, when she made the choice to live in the White House with her mom and brother, her dad called her.  
“Hey, CJ,” he said over the phone. It had only been a few days since they had last talked, but she was so happy to hear his voice. “How are you doing?”  
“I’m alright,” she said. “Tired, but happy. It’s been a busy couple of days.”  
“You’re telling me,” he laughed. “I’ve had reporters calling my office every few hours. Hasn’t let up since Tuesday.”  
“I bet,” she answered, waiting for the question she knew was coming.  
Her dad sighed into the receiver. “Speaking of reporters, y’know, reporting, your mom told me you’re not going to be living on your own.”  
“Yeah,” she nodded to herself. “I think it’s better to stay with mom and Alex.”  
“June, you know that if you’d be happier on your own, your mom will understand that, right?”  
“Mm-hmm. But it’s kinda not about me anymore, is it? I mean, my mom’s the president. That’s what matters.”  
“You come first to her. You always will,” he told her earnestly, and she felt her stomach twist.  
“It’s only four years, Dad. I can move out in 2020 if I want to.”  
“You could always come live with me, too.”  
She shook her head. “I’ve picked. I love you.”  
“Alright, June. I love you too.”

* * *

She tasted salt on her lips, and sighed. It wasn’t good for her to sit and stew like this. June picked up her phone, and scrolled through her messages. She thought about texting Alex, but knew that he’d either be lost in work and miss her text for hours or rush home immediately and start feeling bad for her. She opened her messages to Nora and started typing, then hit the backspace button. Nora kept herself on a rigid sleep schedule these days, and wouldn’t be up at — she checked the time — 11:30 pm. Plus, she wasn’t in the same position as June. Nora wasn’t sacrificing anything, especially a degree or a job, for her position.  
Her finger hovered over Henry’s messages to her. They hadn’t texted in a few days, at least not in one-on-one messages. She typed out a message, then deleted it. She didn’t want to tell him how she was feeling, because it would just find its way back to Alex. She drafted another message, and hit send.  
  
_June, 11:23 pm (DC): Hey, Henry! Would you look over an article I’m writing? I want another writer’s voice on if it’s good or not, and if I should fight to get it published.  
June, 11:24 pm (DC): Here’s the link  
_  
She shook her head. It was a good start, but the article wasn’t why she was upset. Not really.  
She kept scrolling through her messages. She passed Pez’s name, not wanting to rope him into this. Anything she said to Pez would be told to Henry, then to Alex. A few friends from high school and college made their way into the running, but she decided they wouldn’t understand.  
Bea’s name caught her eye. Hm. There was someone who would understand, having been in a position of power that included sacrifices. In fact, Bea probably knew more than June, since she’d been doing this her whole life. And she would keep a secret.  
  
_June, 11:31 pm (DC): Hey, weird question. How do you deal with feeling like the sacrifices you’re making for your position are too big?  
June, 11:32 pm (DC): Feel free to ignore that question. I know it’s early for you, and it’s pretty loaded._  


____

____

__A minute later, her phone buzzed, but not with a text reply. Bea was calling her. She pressed the green ‘answer’ button._ _

__“Hi, Bea,” she said, and realized she hadn’t spoken in hours, causing her voice to be raspy. She cleared her throat.  
“Hey, June.” Bea’s voice was as clear and high as a bell. “Having a bit of a breakdown over there, huh?”  
June laughed sourly. “Maybe a little bit.”  
“Well, tell us about it — oh, Henry’s here, too. We’re having a ‘gal’s night’. Say hi, Hen.”  
“Hi, Hen,” says Henry, his voice sounding as groggy as June’s. “June, I’ll get to your article soon, alright?”  
She smiled. “Thank you, Henry. Um, I do love you, but do you mind stepping out so I can talk to Bea?” It was hard not to grimace as she asked. “This particular breakdown pertains more to older sister stuff.”  
Henry laughed. “I understand. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”  
June heard a door close, and a pause from the other line.  
“Okay, June, you’re off speaker phone, and Henry has left. What’s up?”  
She sighed. “Nothing, I guess? It’s kind of just the usual breakdown. I feel like I can’t do what I really want to be doing because I’m the President’s daughter. Like I never asked for this, but I’d also never change it, because it’s what my mom and Alex and Nora all want. And it’s great, of course. And I just thought,” she paused. “Well I knew, actually, that you could appreciate that feeling. How it all gets to be too much.”  
Bea snorted. “Yeah, I know the feeling you mean.”  
“Does it-?”  
“It never goes away, if that’s what you want to know. Once you’re famous, you’re famous for life. It’s very rare that anyone disappears from the spotlight.”  
June groaned. “Not the answer I wanted to hear.”  
“I know, girl.”  
“How do you deal with it? Do you talk to, I don’t know, your mom? Henry? A therapist? Like, what’s your preferred coping mechanism? You probably play music or something, right?”  
Bea laughed. “Well, I don’t have to tell you that for a while there, it was drugs.”  
June hummed quietly, hoping Bea would continue.  
“Sometimes I talk to Henry,” she said. “He gets it. He’s said a few times that he wishes he could just leave this all behind, come up with a pen name, and write. He’ll never do it, though,” she sighed. “Maybe he should. I don’t really talk to my mom. She’s got other things to worry about. And never Phillip; he’s more like Alex, where the fame and politics are all he wants from life. Sometimes I talk to Martha, but that’s not usual.”  
“How does Martha feel?” June asked, hoping she wasn’t violating the boundary between asking for advice and gossiping.  
“Sad, mostly. She loves Phillip, but marrying into our family is hard. She had a steep learning curve.”  
She nodded, despite knowing Bea couldn’t see her. “That makes sense. You think Alex will be okay?”  
“Of course. Like I said, he’s good at that kind of thing.” Bea paused. “Stop changing the subject, June. This is about you, alright?”  
June sighed. “Yeah, that’s fair.”_ _

__There was a long pause between the two of them. June took the opportunity to pace to her window and open the blinds. Darkness spanned as far as she could see, down the steps of the Residence. Some lights flashed outside, but she couldn’t tell what exactly they were. She hadn’t heard Alex come home yet, and decided she should send him a text to see if he’d be back tonight or tomorrow._ _

__“June, are you still there?”  
“Yeah, sorry. I’m here.”  
Bea sighed. “Okay, here’s what you’re going to do. It’s what I do when I feel like this, and it’s the only thing I’ve found that works. You’re going to follow your instincts.”  
“I’m going to follow-”  
“Yep. June, you know what’s best for you, okay? And only you know how to do that. I can’t tell you, Alex can’t tell you, and neither can your mom or Nora. If that’s fighting for this article, which is probably very good, then that’s what you need to do. If it’s saying ‘fuck it’ and choosing to just write the personal essays so you can get published, then maybe that’s it.” June could hear Bea’s voice becoming more passionate. “Whatever it ends up being, don’t forget that you’re in charge. It’s on you to do what’s right.”  
“But what about what’s right for my mom? And Alex, and Nora?”  
Bea sighed. “Look, you’re in a position where you’ve got to be creative. Trust me. I’ve tried to do what’s right for only me, and I’ve tried to do what’s best for only other people. Neither work. June, you’re smart enough to do a brainstorm.”  
June paused for a moment, looked around her room, and tried to find the right words. “I know you’re right. It’s just hard to hear.”  
“I know. But hey! Just because you’re the only one who knows the right answer doesn’t mean you’re alone. You can always call me, anytime. Even at 4 in the morning.”  
“Thank you, Bea.” June laughed.  
“‘Course, girl. You’re family. And I love you.”  
“I love you too.” She smiled into the phone. “Um, I know you said you can’t tell me, but what do you think I should do? Should I fight for this piece, or should I let being the First Daughter stand in my way?”  
Bea chuckled, and June could picture the way she rolled her eyes. “I think by the way you phrased that, you already know which one you’d prefer to do.”  
“Yeah, but which do you think I should do?”  
“Have you not listened to anything I’ve already said? Do what you want to do. The rest is going to fall into place.”_ _

__June looked out her window again, and she knew it faced away from the ocean, and therefore Bea in London, but wanted to think she was looking at Bea.  
“You’re right.”  
“I’m always right. Don’t ever forget that.”  
She snorted. “Yeah, okay. Thank you.”  
“You’re welcome, June.” Bea’s tone held so much love June could hardly register it. “Goodnight.”  
“‘Night,” she said, and hung up. _ _

__On the screen she saw a text notification.  
__

_Henry, 5:04 am (LNDN): Hey June! This article is amazing. I love the points you make in the seventh paragraph about Universal Income. I highlighted some questions I had in the twelfth and thirteenth paragraphs, but other than that, I love it.  
Henry, 5:06 am (LNDN): Also, I love you, I hope everything’s alright, and just remember that I’m always here for you if you need anything!_  


__  
  
She smiles and texts back.  
  
__  
_June, 12:10 am (DC): Thank you so much for reading the article! I’ll look at those highlights soon. I love you too, thank you for letting me know. You’re the best!_  


__She laid down in her bed, plugged in her phone, and decided not to text Alex tonight. He’d get home when he got home. She didn’t need to know his plan to know hers, which was simple: tomorrow morning she would review Henry’s notes on the piece. Then she’d email back her editor, and fight the passion-aggression with persistence. She deserved to have this article put in print, just like if she was some random person who happened to have journalistic talent. She’d do anything, even publish anonymously or with a pen name. And it’d be worth it. After all, she’d taken big strides before to accomplish her goals. Nothing could stop her this time._ _

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Please let me know with kudos and comments, it means the world to me.  
> My tumblr is @lesbianpomatter if you want to chat, and @aintweproudriff to stay up-to-date with what I write!


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